Another pencil-and-paper sketch.
Originally I had it the other way around, with things exploding upward out of the box, but eventually I decided I liked it better upside down. Exploding upward requires an amount of energy I just don’t have, but gravity works whether I want it to or not.
.
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box
I close my eyes
A crimson black tide envelopes the room
A wave of chronical death washes over me
A never-ending nocturnal tsunami
It’s time for a student’s noontime meal
An expectant hush fills the room
As she kisses a box wilted grapes
And yet the withered fruit I consume
I see curdled milk in cheesecloth
Cicadas sing in the mid-summer’s day heat
As I march along to a Jew’s Harp song
A venomous serpent coils at my feet
I hear poolside laughter
The scent of barbeque fills the air
I see her standing at poolside edge
The sun glistening in her jet-black hair
I stare at the newsprint – absent of color
My whole world turns black and grey
Drowning in the Sea of Despair
The sea swells up in the dam gives way
Somberly, I saunter through the gate
Searching through names etched in stone
I lay flora by granite which bears her name
As I kneel to pray and cry and mourn
I’m all alone
FANTASY STORY
art? not real. don’t shoot! I’m naked!
– amigo english not my numero uno tongue, sorry for any bad cooking mistakes! –
WARNING SHITTY STORY AND EVEN SHITTIER SHITTING SCENE.
I send my girlfriend to a 7 day vacation out of town.
I need some time for myself to deal with my emotions and depression and possible something else,
I will stay home while she is gone. And take a friend with you, don’t go alone, will even cover some cost
for her or him I say to my girl, she smiles too me and agrees to it, few days later, its time!
she has left the house and drove off to pick up the friend and back on the road to her 7 day paradise she goes!
I immediately rush inside the house, pick up the brown box in living room and take it outside the house,
open it and take out the festive signs “WELCOME HOME” “LOVE YOU” “YOU&ME” and cover the
front of the house with them, another look inside the box, some xmas lights and balloons, throw them around
the front doors and above the windows. After that is done, time to bake a cake! sweet cake, and decorate the living room too.
Hey darling, before she opened the car doors I say to her, I will text you everyday 1 message, just to let you know,
how I’m doing and how is my day, don’t call me back or text me, I need some time for myself and my thoughts ok?
Sure I love you too, and a kiss I got and she was in the car, and gone.
I already know which friend she will take with her on this vacation, and this is why I plan all of this in the first place.
Its the one she is cheating on me for the past 2 months, or for longer which I can’t even know anymore out of all this lies she is telling me.
I take my phone, write 7 messages, 1 for each day, also include a photo in each one, the final message is with me baking a cake and that is the day
she will arrive home, on phone settings, I click the box with “auto send, on set time” and mark each text message accordingly.
I place the cake and a letter on the round table next to a chair, table is in the center of the living room. It took me some time to find the damn camera
and its battery and placed it in the corner of the room, then with tape I seal off the borders of windows and doors in living room, hang a rope
around the ceiling light cable so that the rope falls next to the table. Now the fun part! Eating! as much as possible! I have bought a lot of food in the store previous day just
for this occasion, and also a bottle of laxative.
The camera is on! so the eating can begin and half of laxative bottle with it. I drop the pants and shit all over the room, the chair, on tv, on floor. Then eat some more,
and puke all over the table, on the fire place, all around the room. place myself so I will not fall to the ground with the help of the rope, and splatter the brains on the ceiling,
and windows, and shorty after that, my guts bursted out on the table and that lovely warm carped on the ground next to the table, with help of some device.
She arrived on that seven day, home, after crazy fun with “friend” in hotel room for days. The shock ! The look on her face ! Pale white like a corpse she stood, even a rock would
envy her display of lifeless stillness, few minutes had passed, time on camera has revealed, she finally moved, by the smell of rotting corpse and feces, her white now changed
to green and her stillness to shaking body. She approached the table, sit on the chair next to my body, and like an automated robot, reached for the letter next to the spoiled cake.
– I place my hand on your shoulder now, look me in the eyes, and you will receive a warm smile from me and my heart and my love and my time, and take a really good look,
what you have done to me!
NOW BLOW THE CANDLE ALREADY!
YOU KNOW, YOU CAN ONLY WISH FOR ONE THING!
HEY I’M TALKING TO YOU!
In that moment she brought me back to the table, and my mind,
I take a deep breath and blow the candle on the cake, that she baked for us and our anniversary.
The camera in the corner of the room, pointing at me, red light flashing, it’s recording.
She says, hey! whats wrong ? you seems so distant from me lately… I think I need to find a new boyfriend your getting no fun anymore!
My hand reached next to the cake, a knife, a move, right to her heart, and out on the other side!
Knife fell to the floor, I reached with my hand to touch her lips…
With window opened, and rain falling, cold breeze have woken me up from this nightmare and sleep!
I think my mind is going insane, who opened the window? It’s damn cold in my room, need to close the window.
Now back in my bad, it’s in the middle of the night, still shivering, turning over,
I see her, next to me!
she holds a cake and a knife!
…I couldn’t make him talk
HEY I’M TALKING TO YOU!
WHAT DID HE TELL YOU ABOUT ME?
The Wendy Williams show is on. I can’t find the damn remote, I can’t change the channel on the frickin cable box without the damn remote. And I swear on all that is Holy that if I hear these women yell whoop-whoop one more time I just might end it. ( it gonna take a talk show to drive me over the edge ? ) screw it. I’ll be in the garage if anybody needs me.
So I have been temporarily let out of the hospital… On condition that a nurse is always has to come over and check on me I wanted to surprise you guy’s I was let out maybe 6 hours ago I just didn’t feel like talking… The hospital made me worse currently right now is a box of painkillers with over 750 pills in it and I don’t know what’s stopping me from taking the whole lot…. I’m honestly done with life but if I fuck up now and don’t succeed I won’t be let out of the hospital for a year or 2….
My “Mom” is currently gambling and she won $600 so right now I’m alone. I could end it all but something stops me from doing so…
The only thind that make lookk forward to lake tahoe is there nothing tieing my in-laws there they “Say there leaveing it in August” so whats keeping me from taking my life there? …. Nothing .
Theysay money is coming easy there so If I make enough. I gooe the resorts have a comfey bed and food feathered down blanket there. so I can take something to sleep and not wake up .
Or a nice bath to take box cutter to my arm and drift away I like water. My family will give up onme the second I get the plane so there no worrie about them . I wolnt see my brothers first born but its fine . I fand so much peace in the idea of ending there.
As phantom says we got dealt the shit hand by God where did we go wrong or what did we do to piss God off ? is it a test of strength ? Test of faith ? I don’t know but it is some bull shit right here
maybe with lived a high life before this life ? Maybe I should start going back to church ? Or maybe we live in hell and we go heaven when we die ? That dose make suicide sound nice if people who commit suicide and go to heaven it’s a sin I think ? But who cares ? Only the strong survive I guess the saying is true but fuck it we all end up in s box anyways sooner or later il play the game for a lil wile longer
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I thought you might like to see my old point shoes, (dead) I never used these as I switched over to Bloch and I find Bloch is a much more superior pointe shoe than these. But as you can see, the ribbons are gone off these along with the elastics. I didn’t put on toe pads so it’s just bone one packed leather here. LOL I do not suggest that by the way. These how ever have a traditional rounded box and high vamp, my newer ones have a broad box mid vamps with a soft shank. The ones in the picture have a hard shank, my feet can’t work those as well as I’m slightly flat footed with a short arch.
Sorry not sure why they are sideways…they were turned the proper way when I uploaded them but not when they attached.
I took these pics a few days ago to show a friend that was curious of the style.
I was just delt a bad hand where everything is a struggle for me. I just don’t see the good in life. I trained myself cognitive behaviors and programmed myself to continue to thrive to be productive against my own negative thinking. I have excelled in going outside my box but It’s so exhausting and Im still not happy. Still not any further than I was. There’s nothing wrong with me hating life as long as I’m productive in society. That’s what all the doctors preach right? I’m done pretending, I’m done putting up a fake face. I just want to be in a room left alone and no contact. Let me just live in my mind and be crazy. Atleast I’m not hiding my feelings by being productive. I want to fall apart I’m tired of being strong.
Why is it that when you fix one problem another one appears…why is it people just can’t understand that it’s all pointless..who makes up shit like this…I hate waking up feeling like…I hate being imperfect…I hate that god chose me to live this pathetic life…I FUCKING hate it…and no matter how many time I try fix it I still wind up back in this same box….I really want to know when does it end…when do happiness come for me…when can I smile because it’s genuine…I just don’t know what to do anymore…I just don’t know how to pretend anymore…I just don’t know what they want from me anymore…I have nothing..I am nothing…why deny it…
I really don’t see the point of living anymore, I have a box inside my closet full of unfulfilled suicide letters…I was just to coward to go along with them, I really hate myself for letting my life continue like this it should of stopped a long time ago I give other people advice about how they should continue there life and how they just need to keep there up just a little more, But meanwhile I’m thinking of a way to die. My bestfriend thinks she knows what I’m going through, She doesn’t know the half of it nobody knows but me. I just want my mother to know before I commit suicide its your fault you’ve hurt me, Left me unsaid, and let me down so many times since I’ve grew up I’ve never once heard you say your sorry for anything you’ve done to me, I have always been the one apologizing for my pain.
Death in glorious combat nothing in my mind can surpass the greatness of that so I’m one step closer everyday my future is a box or urn having a family and living paycheck to paycheck is overrated from what I’ve seen anyways
It was my birthday, and I didn’t want to live anymore.
I had just been dropped off by two friends from a night of excessive drinking and supposed celebration the night before. Everyone was excited for my birthday. I didn’t know why I wasn’t.
I hadn’t slept. I had lost count of the number of white lines that hit my brain through the vacuum of my nostrils. The alcohol slumped through my veins and with the cocaine now wearing off, I felt heavy. I had been thinking the whole evening, during fits of laughter, drunken miscommunication, and naked strippers, about my no longer wishing to live.
A powerful thought is like a bullfrog in a highchair. Casting dead eyed empty glances down at you and croaking loudly to remind you it’s there. Even with my face pressed in between a pair of voluptuous breasts at a seedy strip, I had heard the croaking.
I expressed my thanks to my friends as I had exited the car and waved them goodbye as my feet crunched into the snow towards the side door. As I entered the house, the bullfrog leapt from up on high, and landed with a loud thud and splashed into the thin waters of my mind. The water overflowed and washed over my brain, coating it in nothing but that one, incessant, buzzing, thought. No one was home either. Perfect.
I quickly undressed myself and headed for the stairs, crossing the living room and nearly walking sideways into the couch, I landed with a thud on the bottom step. My equilibrium now deteriorated from exhaustion, I pulled myself up the stairs with gnarled limbs. I regained my confidence to stand and reaching the top steps, rushed into the bathroom, plugged the tub, and turned the hot water tap to full blast. I had read that hot water thins the blood and allows it to flow better. This made sense to me.
In an almost excited state, I went back downstairs in search of a proper utensil for cutting. As I passed into the kitchen, I noticed a wrapped present and a card on the table. “Happy Birthday _________!” scrawled across the manila envelope. I hesitated, but left it sitting there. An interesting mystery to take with me. Wherever I was going.
I raided every drawer and in my searching, remembered from previous curiosity induced research, that there was nary a sharp knife in the house. My family did not keep up with the maintenance of their knives, which had all become extremely dull from years of use.
I put my coat and boots on and headed for the back shed. The sun was reaching it’s zenith and the reflection of the flat surface of the snow caused me to squint. Tears formed in my eyes as I reached the door and thrust it open. The tool box lay next to the side window, and upon opening it, I quickly found the box cutter I had used the previous week when cutting some insulation. It was slightly rusted, but upon gliding it across the back of my hand, felt sufficiently sharp enough to do the job. I raced back inside.
In the kitchen I grabbed the bottle of sleeping pills from the cabinet I had been prescribed on my way back upstairs. Trazadone. I didn’t know the lethal dose, but there was enough left that I assumed it would be enough to knock me out as I bled.
I reached the bathroom and placed the pills and the box cutter on the counter as I began to undress. The tub was only half full now. I thought that it was taking too long. In my manic state I wanted to undo myself while I was riding the “buzz”. Before any second thoughts or doubts entered my mind. As I was undressing, I thought about all the things I had written that were on my computer, some things I thought, I did not want people to know or read about after I was gone. I raced into my bedroom and quickly began going through the folder filled with the documents, and started deleting.
An unsent letter to a lost love. A cathartic essay on the observation of my mental illness. Pleas for help or understanding. Anything I thought might be perceived as pathetic. As I was deleting these files, I started to think about what I wanted to leave behind.
What should I say? Should I leave a letter? Should I leave it a mystery? The words of Bill Hicks entered my mind. “…it’s not like you’re losing a cancer cure here people.” I thought it would be funny, but I’m not sure anyone else would understand. The feeling of not being special, or that you matter really. They wouldn’t be losing anything important. I thought it appropriate, but decided instead to go out without words. Words can be misconstrued. Actions speak louder anyways.
When I felt I had sufficiently deleted what needed to be, I thought about music. What should I listen to as I drift off into nothingness? I decided on Jeff Buckley’s hauntingly beautiful album, Grace. As well as some choice bawlers from Tom Waits. I made a playlist.
I brought the laptop with me back to the bathroom. The tub was filled now and I turned the tap off. I moved the knife and the bottle of pills to the edge of the tub, plugged the computer in and rested it in their stead. Hitting play to Buckley’s “Mojo Pin”. I steeled myself and prepared my mind. I wanted no doubts. I wanted this to be the answer to everything. It had to be right. It had to be just. It had to be the only way out.
It’s hard to describe complete hopelessness. The world disappears as you become more and more disconnected from it. You feel ethereal and transparent. It’s impossible to taste. To hear music. Feelings become distant memories as your soul withers, and your sight becomes more sunken. Your spirit feels dry and cracked. Joy seems unattainable, and pleasure. Your humanity dwindles away until you no longer feel human. That you belong to a race, or species. Completely separate from this, you float off into distant and empty oceans and you soon lose sight of the shore. This is where I lost hope, and decided to throw myself overboard, into the abyss.
I pulled down my boxer shorts, and began to ease into the water. It was hotter than I had expected. I drained it slightly and turned the cold water tap to make it easier to get into. I tried again, and although still excruciatingly hot, I eased in easier. I did not want to hesitate. I grabbed the bottle of sleeping pills and opened it. In a quick glance I surmised there was about twenty left. I tilted back my head and threw them down my throat. I scooped a handful of the hot bathwater, which chased the pills and helped them slide down easier. I threw the bottle across the bathroom and grabbing the box cutter, slid the blade out, and beginning on my right arm, began to slice from my wrist up my forearm.
It was painful, and blood bubbled out, trailing the blade. I realized I wasn’t pressing hard enough. I pressed harder as the blade dug in and cut through the image tattooed on my arm. A waste of good art I thought as I carved through the dress of the woman painted there, and reached the arm she had placed on her hip. I then began on the left arm. As I raised my arm over to cut, the blood poured from my wrist and began to drop into the water, where it diluted itself in clouds of smoky red, creating beautiful patterns.
My left arm hurt more than my right, and cowering in my pain, I began to hesitate and become frustrated at myself. I realized I still was not cutting deep enough. Even though my skin was peeling back from the muscle like skin on a chicken breast, I knew I wasn’t hitting a deep enough vein. I cursed myself for being a coward and threw the knife across the room, crashing against the floor. I had made sufficient and long enough cuts to bleed out a fair bit. The water was becoming more pink as I stared up at the ceiling. Checking out, I discovered, is hard.
My body felt terrible. My head pounded. I was dehydrated. I felt nauseous and my arms now burned from the open wounds. I then decided that if I couldn’t bleed out, perhaps the pills I had ingested had been enough. A backup plan of sorts. In my frustrated state, I got out of the tub, blood pouring down my arms and leaving splashes and pools on the floor as I stood. Some had coagulated and begun to stick to my arm hair. As I stood, I began to feel worse, and thought that perhaps the pills were already taking effect. I truly felt horrible now. I grabbed a towel and cleaned my arms a bit, and then drained the tub. I didn’t feel I could stand much longer and rushed to my bedroom.
I jumped under the blankets and settled in for what would hopefully be my ride out. As I lay there, my heart began to beat hard and fast. It felt like it was going to break my ribs and burst out of my chest. My headache became worse. The cocktail of drugs in my system were not mixing well together I thought. The alcohol, cocaine and sleeping pills were obviously having negative effects on each other. I began to worry I was going to have a heart attack. My chest became inflamed and a sharp pain began to pierce my insides. I curled into a ball as the pain in my head and chest merged and coursed through my body. This was going to be a painful way to go.
I lay there in excruciating pain for an unknown amount of time. Time lost meaning to me and I was lost in the hopeful decay of my body. Perhaps for hours. I lost consciousness.
And then I died.
I no longer existed. I had been erased and I was nothing. I was no longer born. I no longer lived. I had never laughed. Never loved. Never lost. Never cried. Never hated. Never came, only went.
A dead dream.
My eyes, felt the warmth of the sun through my eyelids. Saw that reddish hue.
And I woke up.
It’s been two years since that day and I’m still here, struggling from time to time. I found this website and thought I’d share. I still don’t know what the answer is, but I’m still around, and I guess that’s something.
and it is depressing the hell out of me.
the last few days it has been cloudy, chilly, and raining off and on. i actually really like fall, but i’m light sensitive, and a lack of it can make me more depressed & lethargic. no, i don’t own a light box and i can’t get one unfortunately.
i really want to enjoy this fall, but so far i can’t. i’m just really down. it’s coming up on the one-year anniversary of when my family broke apart, and i’m not taking it well. though it’s better having some distance between now and when it happened, and though that distance has offered some perspective, i still would rather forget this past year ever went down.
so now my family is broken up. i don’t have any friends, and i certainly don’t have a bf (who’d want me???). so i’m basically alone, and it’s killing me. and i won’t go out and talk to people either, because i am an ugly specimen indeed, and i can’t rightfully subject other people to that.
why am i here?
i know that i said that i would wait but i found the key to the trigger lock taped to the inside of the box so tonight is the night I’m going to go get some burger king and a pack of cigs a few beers and finish the job goodbye everyone. ill let y’all know if i puss out at 10:00 tomorrow morning but don’t count on it.
The feelings started coming back again that sort of empty worthless feeling and I’m still trying to fight it even now my trying not to cry
I read my Diagnostic report today for the forst time ever and I was like someone literally put all my bad quality in a “nice” little box and I realised just how pointless I really am I use to think that I can use what I DO have to my advantage but what I do have isn’t going to help me be successful in a ordinary part time job and I isn’t going to make me progress onto being happy and content in a job I will love so what’s the point.